


Through the looking glass - drabble

by foolhardy



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Mostly just Gren in his cell, Runaan is not mentioned, Trying to be Chained-up not Chained-down, Viren is a butt, but his chains feature alot!, gen - Freeform, unedited, which is like an asshole but with less screentime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 06:11:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17892998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foolhardy/pseuds/foolhardy
Summary: Gren is trying to be chained up when his cheer crosses the line and Viren decided that he doesn't need a ray of sunshine in his workroom, it's killing the mood of evilness he's been cultivating, so Gren has to be locked up somewhere else with nice recently vacated chains.His new cell has a mirror, which might be nice, but Gren is sure mirrors are not supposed to watch you back.





	Through the looking glass - drabble

The mirror creeped Gren out. It was the only interesting thing in the cell he'd been moved to, but even so, he couldn't bring himself to like it. He was sure it didn't reflect properly. Scattering light across the surface. He was sure the candle in the reflection was swaying. There wasn't a breeze down here, Gren certainly would have noticed that. His candle, the one Viren had left behind burned straight and bright and cheerful.

Gren couldn’t sit in his new chains. He'd woken up dangling from them with his hands numb and shoulders screaming. He'd thrashed and brought his feet under him. His terror lessening as sharp pain meant his hands were still attached. Viren hadn't made any such threat, or at least, only talked of cutting out his tongue, not any other body parts. 

He knew he'd said too much as soon as Viren turned his face to him. Usually, Viren showed baffled irritation in the face of Gren's greetings. There had only been fury in Viren's face this last time. He had struck out with some magic and Gren had woken up in the cell beyond the workroom. These were probably the same chains that had bound that elf. The one who had refused to speak to him. The one Viren had done something to. 

Gren shuddered and tore his gaze from his sad reflection. These manacles were just like the ones he'd had in the workroom. Solid, depressingly rust free and lacking a lock to pick. Not that he knew how to pick a lock, but he had been game to try until he'd seen that there was no keyhole. As he'd always been unconscious he'd never seen the manacles being fastened, but he imagined magic was involved. 

These manacles also did not have a shallow groove worn into them. 

"Well, no time like the present." He told himself, in as firm a voice as he could manage. Gren wriggled his arms, finding the obstruction he was expecting near his left shoulder. It took a little imagination but he worked the sliver of metal along under his clothes towards his cuff. He was not looking forward to starting over, but there really wasn't much else to do. 

For a few precarious moments, he almost dropped it. His hands flinching as the movement broke new scabs around his wrists. He saved the file from dropping. And took a few moments to enjoy this small victory.

"Right, perseverance above all." He made the first stroke against the manacle. He would be free. 

\---

Viren had lengthened the manacles. He'd had to so Gren could eat. Unfortunately, as they were magical, there had been no moment when Gren was free to spring an escape. So instead of bludgeoning the mage over the head he thanked him for the food and got to eat it. He could also now reach the bucket. A true blessing, he had not been looking forward to the inevitable moment of not being able to reach it. 

And then there was the mirror. Viren had turned from feeding Gren and stopped quite still. The sudden halt drawing Gren's attention sharply. 

Viren had cursed and stormed to the door reaching out a hand and half turning flung the mirror flat to the floor. Gren had flinched expecting glass to cover the cell in a definite health and safety violation. He had been overly cautious, the mirror only clanged and slid over the rough floor. 

He didn't like the mirror, but it twanged some sense in him to have it so carelessly flung. He'd been raised better than that. So waiting only as long as finishing his food took, Gren set to work. The mirror was now in reach. But his feet were still in their boots, with socks stiff with sweat and in dire need of washing. Such tools were not the best with which to lift a mirror. 

He dragged it closer, winching as it scraped along the floor. Viren hadn't even given him any straw, which was surely another violation against the rights of prisoners. With his toe, he tried to catch the edge and flick the mirror up. But his boot was not suited to the job. He ended up just shunting the mirror away.

Then he placed a foot astride the mirror and bracing it on one lifted the edge with the other. But he couldn't reach all the way down to it. The first time he dropped it, but the next he managed to walk the foot doing the lifting under the mirror and set it down. Now he just had to lift the top up to his hands, which he did, and then he had the mirror on its feet again. 

His triumph died unvoiced. 

The mirror was facing him, only a foot from where he stood. And it was black. Not one gleam of the candlelight danced on its surface. And Gren couldn't see any reflections. He swallowed and thought about kicking it over. But then it would lie on its back and that didn't seem like much of an improvement. Instead, he shuffled it sideways until it stood next to him facing the wall. As long as he wasn't leaning on the wall he couldn't see the creepy black glass of its face. 

Still, he knew it was there.

That night, or what he decided was night since his hands ached from using the file, he dreamed that the mirror knew he was there too.

\---

Viren actually asked how he was doing when he came down two days later. Gren took the food and answered what he thought the mage was really curious about. Viren's eyes were on the mirror. "It was a bit of a trip hazard lying on the floor." He shrugged, his chains jangling an accompaniment to his display of unconcern. 

"I'm sure, yes. Quite." Viren bit out the last word and glared at Gren who quickly gulped his water incase Viren got it into his head to take the jug away. You'd think that after going to the trouble of taking him prisoner Viren would at least be committed to the upkeep of one, but the man couldn't seem to grasp the concept of regular meals. "Yes," Viren said again and slammed the cell door. 

Gren listened, but once again he didn't hear any lock turning or bar dropping. That was comforting. He finished his food and went back to work on the shallow grooves already forming on each manacle. 

His hands were both aching. He'd swapped between them again and again always telling himself that he couldn't call it a night yet. That was when the candle died. Gren dropped the file like a fool and cursed as the last glow of the candle flashed and faded. 

Frantic he calmed his panic. He carefully scraped each foot towards himself, listening, eyes wide to the darkness. There. He dragged the precious file close. Now in this cell, he would not have the chance to steal a new one from the workroom. With the file found he pinched it between his boots. Or tried to. If he could get it on top of one boot he'd be able to lift it to meet his hands. Or maybe toss it. His hands could reach knee height. But tossing it in the dark would be stupid. 

Focused as he was on the position of the file between his booted toes he barely noticed the growing light. Only as he finally watched the file creep up onto the toe of his left boot did he register that he could see it. And then he froze. Out the corner of his eye, he could see the mirror. See the light that spilt from it and his heartbeat seemed to echo in the cell. 

With his unladen foot, he reached out and carefully turned the mirror away. He breathed out. And in. Good. The light was very useful, he was very pleased that the mirror was all lit up. And he was not going to imagine what might have moved inside it just as he was turning it away. 

Instead, he was going to lift this file up and get back to work. And so he did. 

\---

When Viren decided to feed him again Gren was truly happy to see him. He was carrying a candle and the light from it seemed to wash away the mirror's glow. Gren took the food and water with as cheerful a word of thanks as he could think of and was just gulping at the water when Viren's magic struck him. 

He dropped the jug and plate in the first instant as his muscles locked up, in the next instant he screamed. That instant seemed terribly long. And then it was over and the cell door slammed. Gren listened as it was not locked and felt the water soak through his clothes. He lifted a soaked sleeve to his mouth and drank what he could. Closing his eyes to escape the cell as the mirror began to glow again. 

The bread and his plate had been scattered by the storm of magic and the mirror was even spun about. Gren finished with his sleeve and carefully reached for the mirror. Careful of his newly opened scabs around his wrists. 

He missed the gilt frame. Pain wracked muscles not as steady as he liked and he fell. 

The lurch threw him to his knees almost like being thrown in the guard training halls. Gren found his feet in an instant on pure Amaya-trained instinct. He was unsurprised at the window he stood facing. The sensation at his fingertips made them twitch. He shuddered at the phantom touch of glass giving way to something else. Blood continued to run down his fingers, he lifted them up in an effort not to bleed all over the polished floor. A little too late as he'd already smeared the stuff around in his landing. 

He walked to the window. As would anyone who'd been locked in a windowless dungeon for weeks. 

Clouds met his gaze. This place must be high in the mountains, or the weather must have closed in. He could see endless depths of clouds below and a patchy sky above. Very very high up. 

\---

He was still watching the clouds go by (the books all being in languages he couldn't read, and snooping very rude and the profile of were clouds lovely, even mesmerizing as they shifted) when there was a quiet noise behind him. He turned.

There was an elf. Hooded, but certainly an elf - or else a human with an incredibly elaborate headdress. The probable elf stood in the doorway and looked between the mirror, Gren and the blood on the floor. Gren felt something in him shrivel up in shame, a blush rose. "Hi," he offered and wished he had managed to kill the habit of saying 'err' before everything. The definitely-an-elf fixed very-certainly-elven eyes on Gren. "Sorry about the blood?" He tried. 

The elf glanced at the blood smeared in the centre of the room. His gaze travelling to the few stray drops from Gren's brief exploration. To Gren's relief, there was no immediate attacking the human or even anything in the way of anger. 

"I came through the mirror," he explained, "but," he continued, again interspersing with too many 'err's for his pride, "I couldn't get back through…" He looked at the bloody finger marks on this side of the mirror and wondered if they were showing up on the other side. The elf followed his gaze and then moved, striding across to the mirror and pulling out a cloth to cover it. This done and all the mirror covered to the elf's satisfaction he or she came to loom at Gren. 

Looming was easy for elves because they came with extra horn height, Gren was reasonably tall for a human, but he was not wearing a dark cloak over pointy horns and had never quite gotten the knack of looming. This elf was good at it, he (for Gren could see he was physically a 'he') loomed. Gren kept his back from pressing against the window frame and didn't move his arms from where he had each hand compressing the other wrist. 

This was partly bravado, one did not quail when loomed at, but was also necessary. He'd done more than break old scabs when he'd convulsed from Viren's spell. The new cuts were deep, and where the old had been they were deeper still. He's tried to find something to bind them with but hadn't anything to cut up his clothing. And his clothing was filthy from his imprisonment. He probably stank too. 

This last thought was what stuck in his head as the elf stopped. His expression unreadable and shadowed by the hood. "I don't suppose you have an excess of baths, food and bandages? Not necessarily in that order. I should probably priorities bandages but really I'd kill for a bath." He cut himself off before he could babble on, the curious tilt to the elf's head as effective as Amaya's eyebrow at drawing his attention to how his mouth was running. 

"Kill?" Oh, well, maybe that wasn't a common expression. The turn of the elf's mouth could not be good. 

"Kill dirt." Gren assured the elf, and chirped, "then I'd be twice as hygienic!" Gren couldn't have stopped the words for a kingdom but was acutely aware of the heat coming off his cheeks and ears. 

The elf's eyebrows lifted a fraction, Gren struggled to divine the meaning but the elf was very controlled. Neither his posture nor his face gave more than a suggestion of his thoughts. And when he did move Gren could see how well the elf was arranging himself.

"Are humans usually so dishevelled?" It was hardly a question, the elf's tone more that of a mild observation. Gren watched his face and saw his eyes smile and felt every muscle along his spine try to crawl away. Like someone was holding a knife to his kidneys. He'd never seen a smile quite like that. It reached his eyes certainly, but it was painted on, a masterwork certainly, but not even skin deep. 

"Only after we've been chained to a wall for, well it felt like weeks!" His mouth replied on automatic, a little more honestly than he would like. 

To Gren's relief, the elf's smile had faded. "Weeks? You were only in that cell for five days." Gren absorbed the fact that the elf had in fact been watching him through the mirror, which made him itch for a bath all the more. 

"Five days? I couldn't tell, being underground." Or at least without any windows. 

"I would not lie." The elf said, his tone calm as a lake, but Gren saw the smile twitch snarl-like at the edges. The smile smoothed and the elf continued. "Elves can count the passing of the days without watching the sun."

Gren weighed the pros and cons. While it would be kind of neat to know exactly what time it was, it would also be a little morose to know how many hours had been lost while he'd been chained to a wall. "Can elves also tell what season it is?" He asked as he considered if he would like such an ability for himself.

"Yes. Certainly."

"And the weather?" Gren asked continuing his line of thought. "Can you predict it at all?"

"I can." Came the short reply. 

"Have you ever grown tomatoes?" The frost in the silence would certainly have killed any tomato plants in a square mile. Gren met the elf's eyes again and almost laughed. He had meant the question in earnest, but it seemed the elf had not realised that. "It would be really useful to have your own internal almanack like that. It would be a pity if you didn't have a garden. My tomatoes grow really well with how close they are to The Breach, but the frosts always sneak up on me and kill them off." The stiff cast to the elf's face had eased but Gren continued caught up by the topic. "Every year. I always leave them out too long, or there is an early frost."

"Stop." Gren did, he had managed to convince the elf of his sincerity. He looked in control again, but it was good to know that he could lose that control. Gren would have to watch and make sure he didn't push it accidentally again. 

"Bath, then bandages." The elf announced and swept an arm to the door, it had been locked before the elf had opened it. Gren looked along the dark skin of the elf's arm, a smile tugging at his face at the star-y freckles and to the door. He made the decision, stepped past the elf and as he reached the door he imagined again what might lie on the other side. 

\---

Fin


End file.
